The face behind a visor
by ABSOLute Chimera
Summary: The great Grey Warden and Sten arrive to the Seheron. As they answer to Arishok's questions about the Blight, he can't help but wonder – who is the Gray Warden and why does he hide his face under the helmet?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, I just write for fun and blah blah blah._

_I thank **straywolfxx** for revising first three chaps. Since English is not my mother tongue I am sorry if the grammar, meaning or punctuation sometimes confuse you, it was not intended. I am looking for a beta, if you're interested in being a Beta to this story - please contact me._

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_**The face behind a visor. **_

**Chap. 1**

On a massive black throne a horned giant was leisurely resting. His rough face looked unusually tranquil, and one could even hear his soft and quiet breathing. If anybody suddenly broke in, they wouldn't believe their own eyes – Arishok, the infamous Qunari warlord, was taking a blissful nap.

Fortunately or not, nobody happened to be there to catch this view. The Kossith warrior was all by himself in a throne hall. Windows were shut, doors closed. He sat on his throne, surrounded by only grey walls and colourful paintings on them. Currently he was supposed to meditate and devote all his thoughts to the Qun, to his place in this orderly system. Maybe right now, in his dreamless slumber, he was doing the exact thing.

Suddenly, loud knocking on a gate pulled him out of sleep. The great warrior opened eyes and tiredly stared at the door. As he rubbed his eyes, he heard the knocking again.

- Come in, - he loudly said in a raspy voice.

A couple of Kossiths entered the hall and approached their leader. By raising his hand he stopped them and leaned forward. They bowed to him and silently awaited a permission to speak. Each of them carried a spear and Arishok recognized Ashaads. Swift warriors, but also messengers when it was needed.

- What's happened? – the warlord sternly glared at them, wondering if it was worth his time.

- We're sorry to interrupt your meditation, Arishok. But… Sten has returned.

The Qunari leader immediately forgot about rest. He clutched arms of the throne, fighting an urge to race to the port and personally face the man. After all, he was the Arishok, the Arishok must not act inappropriately and let this childish excitement control his actions.

It was a common thing among Qunari. But return only of one Sten was so important, that Arishok personally had to be called.

- Then why do you come to me? Just let him in already. I've been awaiting his report for a full year, – his voice gave away an irritation, and he was surprised to see both warriors flinching and giving each other a troubled look. – Is something wrong?

- W-well, he is not alone, - the older Ashaad tried to explain.

- Obviously, - Arishok pierced both men with an angry stare. Those bumbling morons. – Let his group in as well.

- But his group didn't come, he says they perished.

- What? – he stared at them. – Then who is accompanying him?

- A Grey Warden.

Arishok at first thought he heard them wrong. But when realization hit, he scratched a chin and suddenly gave an amused grin. The day was going to be quite enthralling.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, I just write for fun and blah blah blah._

_I thank **straywolfxx** for revising first three chaps. Since English is not my mother tongue I am sorry if the grammar, meaning or punctuation sometimes confuse you, it was not intended. I am looking for a beta, if you're interested in being a Beta to this story - please contact me._

* * *

_**The face behind a visor.**_

**Chap. 2**

Arishok wasn't impressed one bit.

When he learnt that a real Grey Warden came to the Seheron, he expected at first to notice a menacing figure in the dark hall, as tall as any Kossith warrior, maybe even Arishok himself. When the person came into light, his blood red cape flowing behind, Qunari would appreciate shining plate armour, covering every part of the man's hulking bulk. As if cold piercing glare wasn't enough, a helmet with long "wings" would give the Warden even more resemblance to an eagle, looking for prey. And of course, the Warrior would carry a heavy ornamented two-hand sword, long enough to slice a dragonling in a single sweep. Despite its weight, the Warden would carry it with a single hand.

When both Arishok and the Warden approached each other, they would shoot glares, ready to fight in a final stand. And then, without a warning, Arishok would give his Opponent a smile. A single smile and a simple nod. That would be enough. The Warden would relax, smile back, and nod as well. And the next days, maybe weeks, if he's lucky, the warlord would spend listening to stories of great adventures. And Sten's report, yeah.

Just for once, Arishok would face an equal one, the real Basalit-an.

The one, standing right now in front of the Qunari warlord, was nothing like him.

The Grey Warden who arrived with Sten was hardly an inspiring sight: a short man in golden plate armour. It was hard to say to what race the Warden belonged or his age: the armour covered him completely from toes to head. Only his dark brown eyes could be seen in a visor under a closed helmet. For some reason he even worse a skirt over the plate leg armour – like those "templars". While Sten's red scale armour looked less splendid, the bronze-skinned warrior still looked much more menacing. Even a couple of enchanted long swords was not intimidating.

Arishok guessed that the Warden was an elf – too short for a human, too high for a dwarf. Though armour looked rather solid it also appeared to be slightly oversized, so he couldn't even see the stature of the guest: maybe the Warden was a bulky young man or maybe he was a fat old slagger. Maybe he even was thin as a skeleton and this armour was nothing but a weak attempt to look mightier in Arishok's eyes.

Maybe this, maybe that, maybe everything and nothing certain.

Arishok avoided looking at the guests. He leaned back, watching sunset in the window. Though at first it might look like he was relaxed, inside Arishok was greatly annoyed by bitter disappointment.

He didn't know how to start and the Warden wasn't helping either: he just stared at Arishok, seemingly impressed by the leader of qunari. Probably it was the first time he saw a kossith of such bulk. The warrior could hardly reach Sten's chest, and hornless Kossiths were considered to be smaller than the rest.

Arishok closed his eyes for a second and mentally sighed. Silence couldn't continue any longer. Enough was enough.

- Welcome home, Sten of Bersead, - Arishok finally looked right at the warrior, who was drilling him with a demanding glare. Sten always hated waiting. – Have you found an answer to my question?

- Yes, Arishok, - Sten bowed and nodded at the companion. – Though the Warden can tell you even more.

- Then tomorrow you'll personally give me a full report

- Surely, - Sten nodded and awaited his leader to address his companion. Arishok simply ignored his drilling glare

- Was it worth losing your group and a full year in the foreign lands?

- I guess there was no other way, - he shrugged.

- It is a shame your brothers perished. Without them, your personal report won't be as full. We'll see each other tomorrow. - Arishok waved a hand and leaned back. – Dismissed, - he closed his eyes and wished the Warden to disappear.

- Arishok, don't you forget something? – the sound of Sten's voice made him open his eyes. No, the parody of a Warden was still there.

- What? Oh, you mean… this one… didn't notice at first.

- Yes, the Grey Warden whom I already presented to you.

- So it is true, this one is a Grey Warden, - it wasn't a question, more like a bitter and sad clarification.

- Yes.

In Sten's voice he felt drops of barely contained irritation. For some reason, the Warden being ignored wounded him as if it wounded his honour. Was Arishok was wrong? Was this Warden was worth time? After all Sten was one of his best officers.

- Grey Warden, - he turned to him. – I am the Arishok of Antaam. It is an honour to meet you… if Sten's words are true about your power.

- It is an honour to meet you as well, - the warrior nodded. - I hope that our experience and knowledge can help your people to fight the darkspawn, might it one day become a necessary, - he slightly bowed and gave him a serious glare.

Arishok nodded and mentally noted that voice of Grey Warden sounded light and thin, yet a bit raspy. An elf indeed, a young one too. Because of the closed helmet it also sounded muffed and echoed.

- Why do you wear your helmet inside? – suddenly asked the warlord.

The Warden paused for a second and shot a quick glance to Sten, who pretended to ignore it. Yet Arishok could feel sudden tension to rise between them.

- I… as a Grey Warden, I must always be ready for an incoming onslaught. Though I trust Sten with my life, I can't let my guard down no matter what, - he tried to sound even and calm.

- So you're afraid that we may lunge on you any second? – paraphrased Arishok

- And can you promise you won't? – the Warden sounded like he was smiling.

- No, - nodded Arishok. The Warden glanced at a couple of ashaads and karasaads behind him. - But in a full armour it must be too hot for a dweller of north, – Arishok frowned.

- Better safe than sorry, better guarded than stung by a bee.

- You know this fable? – now he was surprised.

- Sten isn't made of stone, you know, he has a lot of stories about your culture. And I would be a complete moron if I missed such an opportunity.

For the first time Arishok was pleasantly surprised. Maybe the young man was not a fool after all. He looked at Sten, who kept silent. His hazed eyes stared into nowhere. The warlord wondered if he even was listening to their dialogue.

- Fine, we will discuss your reports tomorrow, for now the Grey Warden may rest in a guest lounge as long as he stays here. Sten'll return to barracks, - both warriors subtly sighed and he realized how exhausted they were.

- If it isn't too much, Arishok, may I request my lounge to be separated? I don't know how much people in your country respect personal space, but as a Dalish, I'd prefer nobody to suddenly burst in my place, - the sudden request made Arishok raise an eyebrow at him. - Just, to avoid needless conflicts.

He pondered for a second and looked at Sten. The warrior nodded, agreeing with the Warden and Arishok suddenly felt uneasy. Maybe the Warden was a great warrior, but since when his warriors were so close to the Basras?

- I agree with the Warden. They tend to have nightmares and can be rather… jumpy, - he added and shot the young elf a stern glare. The Warden nervously touched his helmet, as if trying to grasp hairs and looked away. Odd

- If you and Sten feel it is a necessary, then fine, - what nightmares they meant he had no idea. The Warden looked much more relaxed. Probably he expected a harsher reaction.

Well, nobody was going to make it easy on him. Swiftly Arishok rose from his seat and approached the Grey Warden. The Qunari warlord leaned over and looked him straight into eyes. He saw with a sideways glance how Sten stiffened, how attentively he watched Arishok's every move.

- Remember though that you're just a guest. Nobody will disturb your peace, but cross the line, and you will feel our wrath, - it was not a threat, it was not a demand, it was a fact. And the Dalish slowly and silently nodded.

It was ridiculous how small the elf was compared to Arishok. If the warlord wanted, he could probably crush his head with bare hands. Yet in these dark brown eyes he didn't read fear. The young elf stared back without blinking or avoiding his glare. They stood like this for just a couple of second, and then Arishok returned to the throne.

He could hear that Sten immediately stepped closer to the Warden, right between the warrior and him.

We'll meet tomorrow in the morning, now, leave, - he simply waved a hand and watched them both bow and leave the hall.

The place became dull and typically quiet. Yet somehow this silence didn't bring order to his mind back. When he tried to close his eyes and concentrate, before him once again appeared the strange Grey Warden who didn't agree to even show his face.

Arishok could feel other Qunari looking at him, awaiting his orders. It was almost time to call it a day. When he opened his eyes, the first stars could already be seen on the darkening sky in the window. Night was coming, the time when all mysteries bloomed in their full glory.

And if the Grey Warden thought he could hide something from the Arishok, then it was Qunari's duty to prove him wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, I just write for fun and blah blah blah._

_I thank **straywolfxx** for revising first three chaps. Since English is not my mother tongue I am sorry if the grammar, meaning or punctuation sometimes confuse you, it was not intended. I am looking for a beta, if you're interested in being a Beta to this story - please contact me._

* * *

_**The face behind a visor.**_

**Chap 3.**

Icy breeze flowed into Arishok and the Qunari shivered. The red sun hovered in the horizon over the deep violet sea. Arishok was not a romantic, not a one bit, but such a sight was pleasant to the eyes.

He, Sten and the Grey Warden were walking along a beach towards a port. Followed by a group of Qunari warriors, they hurried to reach the small town, almost running.

The Warden was still in his full armour set, and this time Arishok almost envied him. With the Fereldan Sten also brought cold weather. Neither seemed to mind freezing wind though.

He wished everything went as he originally planned. But things changed and he could do nothing about it.

What a remarkable Arishok he was.

- We are almost there, - Meraad's voice pulled him out of bitter thoughts.

Indeed. He already could see dark silhouette of stone wall which surrounded the town and a trail black smoke fleeing into the sky.

The group hurried their steps and soon reached a gate. Before they could open the shut gate, an Ashaad fell down. A couple of lightings and arrows stroke the ground around them. Momentarily all the warriors took cover, hiding behind boulders or palm trees.

- Qunari scum, stop hiding and face your enemies like real warriors, - a thick voice sounded in the air. Arishok would recognize that accent anywhere. The Tevinterians. Well, just as expected.

A dark-skinned mage stood on a wall, holding a wooden rod with a green sphere on top of it. For a warrior he was dressed too fancy, his yellow, ridiculously big robe marking a mage of high status. He didn't even try to take a cover. Judging from sparkling elusive light which surrounded him, he set up some kind of a magical shield. His non-magic-gifted allies weren't so arrogant and actually tried to hide behind the wall.

- Maybe you should stop hiding your rotten pelt on a wall, - the Grey Warden suddenly shouted

- Who is that?

- Somebody who doesn't need pretty dresses to win a battle, - the young elf leaned to a palm tree, which completely covered his small build.

- Well, well, since when your pathetic kind learnt how to make come backs? – the mage crossed his arms and smugly smiled.

- I am not Qunari. But even I wouldn't want to talk to such a pitiful worm like you. Calling you an abomination would be a compliment.

Arishok couldn't see his expression, but he could feel that remark maddened the mage. He eagerly raised his rod and a web of electricity concealed the sphere. The elf nodded to Sten and quickly run out of his cover. Arishok's first impulse was to shout and stop him. But if he was as good as Sten thought, let him prove it.

The tevinterian sent lightings after the elf, who swiftly ran towards another boulder. His followers also aimed at the running Warden. Seeing that the target was too fast, the Tevinterian powered up his attack spells and soon the Warden could barely avoid both arrows and lighting.

For a second the mage forgot about Qunari soldiers. A bad mistake. As soon as Arishok saw the flickering sparkle fade away, he signalled his archers to hit the scum. If only those bastards knew that well-trainer elven archers were also present, they would be more careful.

A number of sharp arrows pierced the yellow robe and a loud shriek filled the place. Watching his bleeding wounds with a shocked expression, the mage slowly stumbled down.

When the tevinter archers realized it, Sten and three other tevinter warriors had already climbed on the wall and surrounded them. In a couple of second the battle was over. The first and easy one.

The Warden opened the gate and everybody walked in.

Inside of the walls, a small port town was hidden. Like others such towns, it consisted of only wooden buildings. Some of them were swallowed by fire. Bodies of slain Qunari covered the ground: men, women, children. Burnt or cut, beaten or crushed.

Such a sight should had terrified Arishok and the others. It should had made them ill and uneasy. Instead he just felt a sick déjà vu. War was war, and he was way too used to such slaughters. In fact, he could easily cause one too.

The Warden sat beside a corpse of a small girl. He shut her eyes and deeply sighed. On her light Grey skin everybody could see bloody cuts, forming strange symbols. Air smelled of blood magic. As if simple magic was not wicked enough.

Arishok gritted his teeth. The Tevinterians would pay for this.

- While I do not want to question your choices, but why do you personally lead this fight? – the elf stood up and faced the warlord. – Any of your officers could have easily taken your place.

- Because none of my officers can face a Tevinter magister.

The Grey Warden paused for a second and titled his head. His dark brown eyes widened.

- A magister? Here?

- The magisters never stop trying to kill Arishok, - Sten approached both of them. – But only Igraan so far has succeeded in conquering our land. Three towns have already fell to his army.

- Does he personally lead every attack?

- Tonight we received a message from him. He wants to fight me, - Arishok was growing tired of all the questions.

- It's a trap, - the Warden crossed his arms.

- Obviously, - the warlord grimaced. – He may be not here, but if he is, only I can stop him.

- Me and Sten could fight him with help of your warriors.

- Why do you think I'd let a Basra command my army? – Arishok lowered his head and growled, staring into the Warden's eyes. – You're here just because Sten thinks a youngling like you can help us in a battle against the mage.

The elf didn't avoid this glare, but slowly nodded and stepped back. Once again, Sten shot his leader a apprehensive glare and stepped between him and the Warden. Was he afraid that the Arishok would strike the Basra?

- I am sorry, sure… just… let's go, - the Warden touched his helmet with the same nervy odd move

Arishok ignored this comment and moved to his men. They all awaited his next command, longing to punish the Tevinterians.

- Move, we must find the magister, - he commanded in an even, steel-cold voice

Qunari and the Warden moved forward, prepared to face any danger ahead.


End file.
